


Never Really Over

by missanonyma



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Original Character(s), Sad with a Happy Ending, Varchie!Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26860819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missanonyma/pseuds/missanonyma
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Never Really Over

Married at 22, pregnant at 23, and parents at 24. To say the last few years have been busy would be in understatement. It’s difficult sometimes, watching all the things they miss out on as people in their twenties with a sweet baby girl at home. But they wouldn’t trade their family for the world.

He’s late. Almost 5 hours late, he said he would be home by 7 and it’s nearly midnight. She could scream right now, while out of her mind with worry she had to feed their daughter and put her down for the night. Not to mention the baby’s bedtime routine took even longer tonight, Amelia really doesn’t like thunderstorms.

When he finally gets home, he’s soaking wet from the storm outside. His red hair is sticking to his forehead and he casually drops his keys on the side table.

“Where the hell were you?” she snaps, standing up from her seat on the couch and pulling her robe tighter around her frame. 

“I went for a drive-”

“Seriously Archie, we have a child, you are a husband and a father you can’t just fucking disappear-”

“Heart tumor.”

His gaze is unfocused, he looks broken and scared. Her scolding doesn’t compute in his head or at least he elicits no reaction. She tilts her head, confused. “What?”

“I have a heart tumor. It’s malignant, and inoperable,” his voice is monotone, he looks so lost.

“What?” she says again, this time voice cracking and eyes flooding with tears. 

“I was just there for a physical, a routine physical,” he whispers, eyes still staring off into space. “They caught it late. They don’t know how long I have.”

She falls into his arms, clinging to him and sobbing into his already soaking wet shirt. He chokes down his silent tears, holding his wife as he feels her legs start to give out. 

The coming months are a flurry of family outings, doctor’s offices, and ignorant silences. 

She refuses to give up. She spends thousands of dollars making appointments and paying for expensive and experimental procedures. It’s how she copes, staying up all night reading articles about surgeons who could potentially save Archie.

In the end he has to tell her to stop because he doesn’t want to spend what could be his last months of life in any more doctor’s offices hearing the word ‘no’.

He spends every spare moment with Amelia and Veronica. 

He makes it his business to stay in Amelia’s room until she’s asleep, and he wakes up in the middle of the night often to just hold his little girl. 

He has trouble thinking about the fact his daughter isn’t going to remember him, she’s barely a year old. She’s never going to know him, and he’s never going to know her.

He wants a night in the sheets with expensive champagne for their anniversary, so that’s exactly what she gives him. Amelia is at Mary’s house for the night, while the couple enjoys some time alone.

“Three years of marriage…” he smiles, enjoying the feel of her nails lightly scratching his chest. She hums happily, pressing herself up to kiss the hinge of his jaw. 

“I love you, Mr. Andrews.”

“And I love you, Mrs. Andrews,” their noses brush while both of their stupid grins overtake their faces. 

She squeals loudly when he grips her hips and flips her on her back, laughing into her mouth as he kisses her, their fingers intertwining on either side of her head.

When Veronica wakes up in the morning, she feels cold, which is odd because her husband is a human furnace. She feels his heavy arm around her, and she turns around in his grasp, planning on kissing him good morning before they go to pick up their baby girl.

She freezes when she sees him. He’s so pale, and all of his features are gaunt. Holding her breath and suppressing the free fall of tears that are about to leave her eyes, she places two fingers on his pulse point.

All she feels is more cold skin.

She’s hysterical, sitting up and frantically cupping his face.

“No, no, no…” her words fall from her lips without her brain able to register what she’s saying. “I”m not ready for you to go. You can’t…”

Her heart is beating so fast she can barely breathe. Everything is moving so slowly, it’s agonizing. She feels like her heart has been ripped from her chest.

“Wake up, Archie Andrews, do you hear me?” she shakes his head in her hands. “You need to wake up…”

It’s ironic really. He’s always been so kind, the most selfless person she’s ever met. And in the end his heart of gold just… stopped. He didn’t deserve this.

“I can’t do this without you.”

It takes everything she has left in her to get dressed and call 911 to come get his body. The coroner’s report concluded he had a heart attack in his sleep. He died in her arms, and now she has a child to raise and a broken heart to mend.

“My mother made sure I knew how much my father loved me every day of my life until the end of hers,” Amelia speaks at the podium beside the coffin, facing family and friends. “When I turned 18, my mother gave me a letter that my father wrote me before he passed, and in it he told me to take care of my mom.”

“Which I did, and Veronica Andrews took care of me too,” she wipes the tears in her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “My mother put me first. Always. And right now, I find comfort in knowing my mother is where she’s wanted to be for the past 50 years. With my father.”

When it’s over, things are dark. Pitch black, and deafeningly silent. Then things brighten up. 

She is surrounded by flowers. As far as the eye can see, all there is is rolling hills of wild flowers. She climbs up a hill, feeling the years of stress and hard work roll off her back. 

When she gets to the top, she doesn’t need a mirror to know she’s 17 again. Her dress is white and flowy, the breeze making it flutter slightly while the golden sun shines down on her.

And for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, she smiles a different smile. This one is full of love, and passion, and pure delight; Because on the other side of the hill is a red head all dressed in white smiling back at her with his arms open. 

Her youthful legs carry her down to him, jumping into his arms and tackling him on his back. They’re both laughing, drowning in flowers and love. When their noses brush and their lips reconnect it feels like coming home.

Because even in death, love is never really over.


End file.
